


What's Your Pleasure?

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Handcuffs, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25891414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: “I like doing anything with my hands tied behind my back,” Darcy whispered, and Steve’s lips parted, his eyes snapping to hers.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Comments: 32
Kudos: 266





	What's Your Pleasure?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the anon who requested Steve and Darcy with handcuffs. The title of this fic comes from the Jessie Ware song of the same name. (I also wrote a fic with Bucky and Darcy enjoying handcuffs [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25484038).)

“So, when are we gonna do this?”

She’d said it in jest. Honestly, truly, she was joking. She was a little buzzed as well on a frozen margarita Jane mixed her, and she was peering down at Steve sitting on the couch, his beer in his hand as was his habit, and his eyes stared back at hers with an intent Darcy hadn’t considered he’d show her.

She thought over and over, sometimes out loud with Jane, that she was not his type at all. She thought he might find her too strange, too silly at times, or just too… _modern_. They didn’t have a lot in common, except that they worked in the same circles, not that he ever needed to be in the labs.

She thought she’d came across as obnoxious, and he’d tell her to keep drinking, or maybe he’d be embarrassed. Instead, he put his bottle to his lips for a sip, the silence between them like its own space within the common room, everyone else there ignored.

She’d made the joke before in high school toward jocks and other guys above her in the social hierarchy, and she’d get a little thrill out of their reactions. She was always seen as a weirdo in school, playing it up whenever she was teased.

They never asked her out, though. They looked at her differently, trying to figure her out, like what she did on weekends and whether she had a college boyfriend. She’d hang out with the nerds in the library or with the stoners under the bleachers, pretending she was some kind of enigma. She rolled her eyes at the memories of her teenage years, since she was trying so hard to seem like she didn’t care about anything.

In the Tower, everyone was sort of a wild card. Everything was on the same level, complexes and dynamics running on parallel planes, and she thought she’d figured him out.

He was a lonely guy but he was getting better at hiding it. He wouldn’t know what to do with her if he’d got that close. He didn’t have a lot of experience with women.

“Hey, Lewis!” Sam called, and Darcy finally glanced away from Steve, toward Sam, who held up the empty bowl that was filled earlier with tortilla chips. “Your turn.”

Darcy opened her mouth to retort that since he was already up, maybe he could make himself useful instead of pushing gender stereotypes, which would mean she was talking out of her ass, Sam would never do that… and then she felt Steve place his hand over hers, and she flushed, making sure she kept her eyes on Sam’s.

“Alright.”

She moved away from the couch, walking over to grab the empty bowl from Sam, and disappeared into the pantry, her stomach flipping. She’d actually begun to sweat, from something as simple as Steve’s hand over hers, his fingers on her wrist.

When she returned, he was back to drinking with his eyes on the TV, watching something with Sam beside him. Darcy put the bowl in front of Sam’s nose, her eyes falling to Steve’s. His eyes dipped slightly, and Darcy felt that stir in her guts once more.

She wondered if he’d been checking her out the entire time she’d known him, and just now he was letting her see it. He turned his attention back to the TV.

Darcy didn’t stop thinking about him. She knew she was annoying Jane a little with the amount of time that was spent in the following days after the gathering deliberating over what Steve’s deal was. Darcy didn’t own up to Steve touching her hand.

-

Jane reacted to her abridged version of the plot, her eyes swiftly swinging toward the ceiling.

“Talk to him.”

It was all well for Jane to ask a man what his intentions were, or whether he was down for something. Jane had the kind of unshakeable confidence Darcy had always admired about her, but there was also that stubbornness. She couldn’t see _why_ Darcy wouldn’t just ask Steve out.

Darcy would not have made the joke to him that they ought to start fucking if she knew she’d feel this way about it after. The longer she had to think about it, the more caught up in it she became.

At one point, she even considered that Steve touching her hand without asking was meant to segue into him gently turning her down, taking her too seriously, and only Sam had stopped him from rejecting her. She knew that if that was the case, she’d be mortified.

-

The universe put her out of her introspective hell when she nearly walked into Steve on her way to the elevators, her hand going up to stop them from colliding, and his eyes were… _fond_ , which made her pause.

“Sorry,” she said.

He gave her a little smile and Darcy knew she was weak for him, especially with how she turned instantly red. That joke had ruined all her chances of being comfortable around him ever again.

She sidestepped him, back on her trail, only to turn back and see he still stood there, watching her go.

She watched a couple hours of porn that night, and she suspected, or rather hoped, that he wouldn’t be gentle if she ever managed to pluck up the courage to be under him anytime soon.

-

She felt like she’d drawn a target on her back during that party, because Steve kept popping up during work, in corridors or common rooms, and she’d feel her insides squirm with a kind of helplessness she hadn’t felt in years. All she seemed to do around him was _want_ , and she needed to get a grip on herself before she fell apart.

She decided to stop hiding after another night of bringing herself off and thinking of Steve’s eyes on her tits, and she made no move to avoid him at lunchtime, knowing he’d be likely eating alone at the kitchen island.

She used to be able to enter a room he was in and not give him much thought. Or, she’d think of him and put him in that category of Never Gonna Happen.

She disappeared into the fridge without greeting him as he put his coffee mug to his lips, his newspaper spread out on the bench as he had a half-eaten sandwich on his plate. She plucked a Diet Coke from the line inside and slammed the door shut, cracking it open. She put it to her lips, their eyes meeting.

“What’s up?” she managed to say, and he put his cup down, leaning on both elbows.

“Hey.”

He did a lot of talking with his body, Darcy noticed. He’d lift his brow a fraction to convey a string of thoughts, like he was now. It was his version of a pickup line, open to interpretation. He could be joking, too, Darcy didn’t know for certain. She supposed that was the point. He could give a wry smirk and Darcy would see it as cheeky or ironic…

“Any interesting news?” she asked, stepping forward, pushing off the fridge door.

She stood next to where he sat, peering down at the newspaper, scanning it for anything that grabbed her attention, but she was more conscious of his body beside hers.

He was watching her face, not looking down at the paper. Darcy could sense it in his voice.

“No, not today.”

She glanced his way, meeting those baby blues again, feeling her stomach flip.

“You given much thought to what you said the other night?” he added, and Darcy swallowed.

“Be more specific,” she said, feeling bold despite her nervous sweat she could feel threatening to spill from every pore.

He was quiet again, his eyes traveling over her. She knew if he pointed to the ground, she’d drop to her knees, his gaze had enough heat for her to not read it as a long-winded joke. She just wondered if he’d follow through with any threat he made.

“What we’d get up to together,” he murmured.

His voice was low enough to sound rough and conspiratorial. It drove Darcy wild, but she still wanted to push it further, goad him beyond what was appropriate.

A little voice told her to take it back, which she didn’t like. She didn’t need to overthink this. She hadn’t for years. Men weren’t something that had power over her mind, no matter what she liked in bed.

She’d have to still see Steve after this, if she said what she wanted…

Darcy moved closer, invading his space, his eyes falling to her mouth. They were almost breathing the same air, the sweet scent of him detectable among the fabric softener in his t-shirt.

“I like doing anything with my hands tied behind my back,” Darcy whispered, and Steve’s lips parted, his eyes snapping to hers.

She moved away, and his hand darted out to grab her wrist, tugging her back. Their lips didn’t touch in a kiss but brushed as Darcy whispered:

“You scared?”

He was hesitating, but he wasn’t letting her slip away, and she realized then that he wasn’t afraid to touch her, he was studying her close-up. He was savouring this moment in between.

His breath was warm, along with his hand fastened around her wrist.

“Look who’s talking,” he replied. “You’re trembling.”

By the look on his face, they both knew Darcy was trembling from excitement and not fear, but his accusation had the desired effect – Darcy caught him in a hungry kiss, her free hand coming up to grab him by the back of his neck.

-

He backed her into her bedroom, after they took a hasty elevator ride to her floor.

Darcy was meant to be in the labs, while Steve had left his lunch behind in their rush. If Darcy ever got around to explaining this to Jane, she’d say it wasn’t entirely her fault, especially with how Steve kissed her like he wanted to fuck her with his mouth, crowding her into the wall beside her bedroom doorway.

Had he been thinking about her as much as she had about him? He seemed to pour everything into his kisses, his tongue probing her mouth as he sucked the air out of her.

They stripped off, falling into her messy bed, the mattress bouncing them on impact, Steve’s arms wrapped around her as he rolled on top of her, his knee between her thighs to pry them apart.

His two fingers he tucked inside her were thick but not enough, but he was damn determined with them, his thumb swiping over her clit as Darcy began to writhe. He teased her for a few minutes, looking pleased with himself when he pulled back, Darcy’s face sweaty and pink from exertion, the disappointed huff falling from her lips.

He kissed her again, grabbing her by the shoulders, turning her over, and Darcy let out a hiss when he caught her by the wrists, keeping them against the small of her back.

“I’ve got cuffs,” she said, mostly into the bedspread, turning her head in an attempt to look over her shoulder.

His cock was standing to attention and she moved back a little, sticking her butt in the air with a tilt of her hips. If it was some type of mating dance, it seemed to entice him, his hand leaving her wrists as he leaned over to her bedside table, opening it and rummaging through.

She had all types of toys in there, but he didn’t linger on any of them, retrieving the pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs she had hidden away, moving back toward her.

With her wrists cuffed and her face burning with want, he bottomed out, and Darcy felt helpless, she couldn’t keep the smile from her face as he gave her everything.

It was the brutal type of fuck that felt selfish on his part, but it exactly what she needed from him, especially when his hands gripped her ass, pushing apart her cheeks to watch himself disappear inside her again and again.

“Keep going, keep going,” she panted, knowing she sounded drunk and petulant.

He sped up his thrusts, not letting up until she was coming with a hoarse, broken moan into the mattress, his hand cupping her mound.

He was making a point, bringing her off like that, owning her pleasure like that.

He tugged her up and kissed her, sloppy and clumsy, shoving her back down to take care of himself, nails biting into her ass once more.

He came with a grunt, muffled by his grit teeth. Darcy felt him twitch inside her and sighed, turning over when he pulled out of her.

“How was that?” she managed to ask, panting like he was, the sweat trickling down her forehead and chest, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Steve leaned down, those eyes of his taking her in, seeing the wreck he’d made of her. He gave her an unbridled smile this time, with a tenderness she hadn’t anticipated.

“Are you kiddin’ me?”

She got the feeling he'd make her pay for that.

**Author's Note:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


End file.
